


our hands intertwined (hear our hearts beating in time)

by midnighttypewriter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Top Bucky Barnes, a hint of a plot but just a hint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2689580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnighttypewriter/pseuds/midnighttypewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and Steve can't keep their hands off each other.<br/>(RE: Rating - chapter 1 is around the Teen rating, chapter 2 is just porn)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I got a message on [Tumblr](http://midnighttypewriter.tumblr.com/post/103666596586/what-if-after-bucky-is-back-and-his-head-is-more): _what if after bucky is back and his head is more or less straight he just can't take his hands off steve? he can't believe he's spent almost a century without those eyes, those hands, that face.. and now it's like his being is just trying to soak up as much steve as it can. steve ain't complaining, but he might be a tad overwhelmed after round six and bucky has started nipping at his ear again and his hand is sloowly making its way downwards.._ and then this fic happened. I think the result got away a little from what I originally said it would be, I had fun writing this.
> 
> Title's from 5sos's _Never Be_ , because it was playing when I wrote this and it felt fitting.
> 
> (There are some mentions of things under the usual post-WS Bucky, but nothing too detailed.)

The first time he touches Steve after Potomac, they've been sitting at a diner table for two hours, neither saying a word once Steve has run out of pleas. Bucky stares at Steve's hands rested on the polished table. Large hands with the fingernails clipped short and with an ink stain on the pad of his right thumb. 

Seconds tick away. _Come home with me,_ Bucky's brain replays over and over in Steve's voice. He isn't sure what finally spurs but when he reaches for Steve's hand, it's a lightning fast movement.

He grasps Steve's wrist and turns his hand over. There used to be a scar on the inside of Steve's palm before the Serum healed it. Bucky runs his thumb over the ghost of it. Steve's skin is warm and his pulse is strong and steady beneath it. 

"You're here," Bucky says and his voice cracks. There's a change in Steve's heartbeat, just a momentary flutter.

"Yes," Steve agrees, so much promise in that one word, and covers Bucky's hand with his own free one. 

Bucky comes home with Steve. He never stops touching him after that.

***

It's cautious at first, and completely innocent. He needs to make sure he isn't hallucinating or giving into Hydra mind tricks, and the easiest way is by physical contact. He grabs Steve's arm sometimes or touches his face, and stares into his eyes until he feels certain again. The other man always lets him, though his eyes are full of pain because he knows exactly what and why Bucky is doing.

But there's something else beneath it, beneath that urge for reassurance, something that only grows stronger the better Bucky gets. 

He finds casual ways to touch Steve in ways that don't bring the heartbroken look to the other man's eyes. An arm, always the right arm, around Steve's shoulders; his fingers curling around Steve's elbow when he leads him somewhere or pulls him aside; a hand on the small of Steve's back when they discuss strategy with the rest of the Avengers. Steve doesn't seem to mind at all – in fact, he always leans into Bucky's space and whenever Bucky isn't at Steve's side, he catches his friend searching for him with his gaze. 

He revels in the contact. He revels in just having Steve around, but to touch him is a whole new level of pleasure. It's like a hunger he can never quite sate but enjoys attempting to.

***

Maybe they are a little more physical in their affection than is necessary or even usual. Even more so than they used to be – and Bucky had been a tactile person. As if they needed constant reassurance that the other one isn't a figment of imagination. Darcy Lewis calls them queerplatonic life partners. After Bucky looks it up, he definitely sees where she's coming from, but he can't help but wish it was less platonic.

***

It's just the two of them, Natasha, and Sam, but they settled on the communal floor of the Tower anyway. It's more comfortable than one of them having to play a host for the others. Steve and Bucky commandeer the love seat: Bucky sits in one corner and when Steve takes a seat next to him, Bucky pulls him to his side. The blonde man nestles comfortably against Bucky and doesn't pull away even as Natasha raises her eyebrows at them. They pass around boxes of takeout and enjoy small talk until Sam puts a movie on.

Steve is comfortable warmth against Bucky's side and Bucky circles his arm around the other man's waist, resting his palm on Steve's stomach. It's all firm muscle, perfect just like all the rest of Steve. Steve sighs happily and snuggles closer, and his movement riles his shirt up. Bucky's fingers slide over bare skin and yes, yes, that's what wants more of. Because holding Steve close is good, but without the barrier of clothes between them it's better… but he can't ever have that; there are boundaries one doesn't cross.

He simply rests his chin on Steve's shoulder and if he catches Sam watching them with a small smile, he ignores it.

***

He falls asleep on the quinjet after a battle and wakes up with his cheek on Steve's thigh and Steve's fingers combing through his hair.

***

Bucky is used to the ache in his neck and shoulders and back in a way where he only notices it when it goes away for a while or gets suddenly worse. When it gets worse, it's bad.

He removes his arm and it barely helps and only throws his balance off. So he spends the day moping around, trying not to move too much, and wincing occasionally. Steve notices, because he offers a massage, and Bucky feels almost guilty for how he almost forgets he is in pain just at the thought of Steve's hands on him. 

He finds himself laying on the couch cushions on his living room floor with Steve sitting beside him. Whether Steve is using instinct or has actually learned how to give a massage (for Bucky's sake? Now that's a pleasant thought), he is doing well. His fingers work Bucky's tense muscle with just enough pressure and undo the knots and it's not painless but it's such relief. Bucky closes his eyes and lets out a pleased groan. Nothing matters in that moment, just the points of contact between Steve's hands and Bucky's body. 

"Can you take your shirt off?" Steve asks after a while, once Bucky feels like he can actually move his neck.

Bucky hesitates. He isn't sure how he's supposed to keep himself together with the protective fabric barrier. He wants Steve's hands so much he can hardly breathe but it wouldn't be right, wouldn't be fair, when Steve doesn't know about the desires Bucky is guilty of.

Because Bucky knows what he wants from Steve. He wants to touch him until there's no place on Steve's body where Bucky's hands haven't been. He wants the same from Steve. He wants pull him close, so close that there's no space left between them, crush their mouth together and bury himself inside Steve's body. What he wants is an intense, passionate sex but also never-ending, slow and sweet lovemaking. He wants all of Steve, and he is quite certain Steve isn't going to give him that.

Steve misinterprets his hesitation. "It's alright, you don't have to if you'd rather—"

"No," Bucky interrupts him. He does want. God, he's going to Hell, but if he can get Steve to touch him, even like this, even when it's just a friendly favor on Steve's part, Bucky can't say no. 

He pushes himself upward on his right hand and, kneeling on the couch, pries the t-shirt off his body. There is a mess of scars under it, and there is metal where his left shoulder should be and without the arm hooked into it, it looks even more alien. But Bucky isn't ashamed of any of that. He wears his scars and modifications as a badge of honor, a proof of what he's been through - what he's come back from. Yet he can't look at Steve in that moment, afraid he'll see pity in his eyes. He can stand many things but Steve's pity isn't one of them.

He lays back down, stretching comfortably on the cushions. Steve straddles him for better access and though their bodies aren't touching, Steve's legs are just close enough on either side of Bucky's body for him to be very aware of their proximity. 

A jolt of electricity runs through his body when Steve rests a tentative hand on Bucky's back. Steve traces Bucky's spine with his index finger and Bucky shivers helplessly as his skin comes alive under Steve's touch. 

"Sorry," Steve says quietly. "That tickles?"

"Yeah," Bucky agrees, because it's the easiest thing to do.

"Sorry," Steve repeats and returns his hands to the back of Bucky's neck. He runs his fingertips down from his hairline to his shoulders and then he keeps his hands there. He works his thumbs into the knots in Bucky's shoulders and Bucky sighs. He buries his face into the cushions and bites his lip to prevent himself from moaning when Steve's hands move further down. Steve's palms are warm and gentle and feel so, so good.

Steve leans down, close enough that his breath ghosts against Bucky's skin. "Alright?"

"Yeah, you're doing good." 

"Okay." 

Bucky can't see Steve nodding but he can imagine it. He can also imagine the intense focused expression on his face and that mental image helps him not at all. Because though the pain in his back is easing, there is an ache all over his body for _more_. He wants Steve to strip him off what remains off his clothes. Imagines Steve's lips kissing every inch of skin his hands touch. And he tries not to wriggle as his pants turn tight and he needs to spend effort on not rolling his hips into the cushion, on holding them still. 

"It feels nice," he reassures Steve after a moment of silence because he fears the was he forces himself still may translate as tension, as something Steve's doing wrong.

Steve answers with a affirmative mhmm. For the first time since they started Bucky allows himself to wonder whether Steve's actually enjoying himself. He sounds like he is and he certainly made no attempt to cut the whole experience short. It makes Bucky want to say something snarky just to disrupt the intimacy of the moment, but his brain is sluggish. 

Steve's hands move down his back and over his sides in long strokes, just enough pressure to not tickle. 

Bucky keeps having to bite his bottom lip but still a few sighs, a soft groan of pleasure here and there, escape him. But that's to be expected, right? It's not something to be ashamed of or to hide when one's on the receiving end of a massage from a pair of skilled hands. 

Then Steve's hands arrive at the lower parts of Bucky's body. Steve's thumbs brush the line where his jeans hug his waist and Bucky can't repress the shudder, a pleasurable one, that takes over his body. The touch disappear instantly. 

"I think--" Steve pauses to clear his throat. "I think we might be done? Feels better?" 

For a moment, Bucky feels too dazed to respond. "A lot better," he admits after a few breaths. He misses Steve's hands, and his skin feels cold in their wake, and he is so painfully hard he is afraid to move. 

"Alright then." Yet for a few seconds Steve doesn't get up. Bucky can feel his gaze on himself even though he can't see his face. He is about to ask, wonders whether Steve knows exactly what's going on, when Steve carefully stands up. "I'm—You should get ready for the dinner. Bruce is cooking, don't want to miss that." 

"Right. Yeah, I'll get right on that," Bucky says and hopes he comes across as lazy and relaxed rather than achingly hard.

He can barely wait for the door to close behind Steve before he's flipping onto his back and reaching for his fly. He feels guilty when he wraps his fingers around himself and thinks about his best friend, but the orgasm, when it hits him, is the best one he's had since the early 40s.

***

If Bucky worries things will be awkward between them, he worries for nothing. Steve's hand is on the back of Bucky's chair the whole evening and when Bucky bumps their knees together, Steve's face lights up like a Christmas tree. Bucky feels like his chest might explode with want and, terrifyingly, love.

***

A week later Bucky watches a building explode on screen and his heart stops and the world freezes even as everything is a blur of movement around him. Because Steve was inside that building and he can't lose Steve, not again, not for good.

But then Steve appears in the door, staggering but alive, and nothing can stop Bucky from rushing to his side. As he reaches for Steve, Steve reaches for him and they pull each other close, melt against each other bodies as their fingers grasp the fabric of their uniforms just to hold each other tighter.

"I'm okay," Steve says, his lips brushing against the shell of Bucky's ear. "I'm okay. I'm alive."

It's only then that Bucky realizes he's repeating Steve's name, saying the one word over and over but he can't make himself stop.

"I'm here. I'm alright. I'm alive." _I'm not leaving you. You can stop worrying. I'm sorry for giving you a scare._

"Steve." 

But then Steve's being pried out of Bucky's grip and ushered, despite his insistence that he's alright, to the medics.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky paces around the living room on his floor. He expects Steve to come up to his own floor anytime soon and he has an alert set for that so that he can go see him instantly, but he is surprised by his own elevator door chiming. 

"Can I come in?" Steve asks as if Bucky wasn't exhilarated to see him.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Come in." The words come out a little breathless and Bucky can't tear his gaze off the other man. Steve had taken off the battered uniform at some point and is wearing a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of jeans that don't fit quite well and white running shoes. To Bucky, he's the most beautiful sight on the Earth and beyond. He crosses the distance separating him from the blonde man in three long strides. "How're you doing? Do you need to… sit down or something?"

Steve laughs. "I'm alright. I swear I'm alright. The shield caught most of the blow. I bruised my side, but even that's already healed. Look." He lifts his t-shirt with one hand, displaying an expanse of unbroken skin. 

Bucky can't help himself: he reaches out tentatively and brushes his fingers against Steve's bare side, then places his whole palm on the spot. Steve gasps and for a moment Bucky worries he's caused him pain, that he still hurts there despite acting brave, but when he lifts his gaze to Steve's face, the blonde man's eyes tell a different story. 

Steve's lips are parted and his gaze bores into Bucky with intensity that makes the brunette man shiver.

On impulse, Bucky grabs the front of Steve's tee and before he can think about stopping, he crushes their lips together. Steve doesn't even freeze, doesn't even hesitate. 

They're kissing. They're _kissing_ and that's all Bucky can think about in that moment. There's nothing gentle about the kiss, either. It's sloppy and uncoordinated but enthusiastic. Desperate. It's _I almost lost you_ and _I need you_ and _never scare me like that again_ and _I'm here; I'm not leaving_ and, yes, _I love you_.

Their teeth clack and they pull apart for a split second and Bucky chuckles but Steve's already pulling him back with a hand on the back of his head. Bucky slides his hands, both of them, under Steve's shirt and splays his fingers over the firm muscle and warm skin. If Steve minds the metal, he doesn't let it show. Instead, his free hand snakes to Bucky's ass. He smoothes his palm over the jeans-clad buttocks. Then he squeezes and Bucky gasps into the kiss. 

He uses his hands already on Steve's body to push the other man against the nearest wall. Steve doesn't protest. Instead, he moans, actually moans, into Bucky's mouth. It goes straight to Bucky's cock. 

Sliding his hands up Steve's torso, he pushes the t-shirt up. It bunches under Steve's armpits and Bucky'd love to take it off him, but he doesn't want to disrupt the kiss. Because he's scared to believe this is real, that this still be an option if they stop for a second.

But Steve brings Bucky closer, knocks their hips together and oh, there's no mistaking the hardness pressing against Bucky's thigh for anything else than it is. 

He breaks away just enough to look into Steve's eyes. "Damn, you _are_ happy to see me, aren't you?" Steve's cheeks are red, his lips swollen, and his eyes dark. It's the most gorgeous Bucky's ever seen him look. 

"Were there doubts?" he asks, breathless, and rolls his body into Bucky's, causing them both to moan. "I'm not the only one." 

"Damn right you're not," Bucky mutters and runs his palms over Steve's chest before he grabs the hem of his t-shirt. "Why are you wearing so many clothes?" he asks as pulls at it. Steve lifts his arms and together their wrestle him out of the offending garment. Bucky tosses it aside without care. 

With the new expanse of skin to explore, Bucky wastes no more time. He grips Steve's hips and places a kiss to Steve's jaw, follows the line of it and then moves down the blonde man's neck. Steve's hands are roaming Bucky's back as if he couldn't quite settle on where to place them. 

"Buck…"

Bucky has heard Steve say his name hundreds times in almost as many context, but this is his new favorite. The way it falls off Steve's lips like a moan. He wants to hear it again and again, uttered and shouted. 

He covers Steve's chest with open-mouthed kisses, stopping occasionally to taste the skin with his tongue or the lightly nip at it. He listens for Steve's reactions the whole time and the groans and sighs he can hear are definitely positive and only spur him on. 

With his fingers, he traces the line of skin just above the waistband of Steve's jeans, causing the other man to shiver, and attacks the belt buckle. He has to open it blindly, because his mouth has just found Steve's nipple. It grows hard under his lips instantly and he eagerly licks it while his hands work Steve's fly open. He waits a moment for the other man to stop him, but Steve's only reaction is to move both hands down to Bucky's ass and squeeze.

The jeans move down Steve's hips easily once they're undone and Bucky looks down curiously to see plain white briefs tented by Steve's erection. Holding on Steve's hip with his left hand, he rests his forehead against Steve's collarbone and, eyes still firmly on the prize, pulls at the waistband of Steve's underwear with the fingers of his free hand. "God, Stevie, you're gorgeous." Steve's cock is thicker than his own, and it's red and hard and standing proud against the light pubes. 

He can feel the moan his words cause reverberate through Steve's body and he grins to himself. Looking up to Steve's face – flushed and dazed – he licks his lips and announces: "I'm going to blow you." 

"Fuck, Bucky," Steve says and it comes out as a moan and he is squeezing his eyes shut and he doesn't need to say it, Bucky can tell how much he wants his mouth. 

Without further delays, Bucky drops to his knees and pulls Steve's underwear further down. He is facing tat gorgeous cock now and his mouth is starting to water. In his fantasies, sucking a cock rarely featured – he likes to think about taking Steve's ass or riding him until they're both hoarse from shouting each other's names – but now it looks like the best idea he's ever had. 

He wraps his fingers around the base and brings his lips down Steve's cock. He then licks along the whole length with an appreciative hum and then circles the with his tongue, familiarizing himself with the taste of it. 

One of Steve's hands grips his shoulder and the other one buries in Bucky's hair. It makes Bucky feel secure and wanted and present in a way he doesn't think he's felt in a very long time.

He wets his lips and takes Steve's cock into his mouth and Steve moans, his fingers twisting in Bucky's hair. His hips move forward, chasing the feeling of Bucky's mouth, and Bucky uses the strength of his metal arm to keep him still. He doesn't have as much experience at this as he'd like and needs control over things. It makes Steve groan in frustration but Bucky, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, rewards him by pressing his tongue flat to the underside of his dick and taking it further into his mouth. 

He feels sloppy and unskilled as he starts bobbing his head in some semblance of a rhythm; he isn't sure whether he's ever really done this before or only imagined it, but he hopes he makes up for it with genuine enthusiasm. The weight of Steve's cock in his mouth is comforting and arousing and his own erection presses at the fabric of his jeans. 

"Bucky," Steve says, moans, and his hand moves from Bucky's hair to his jaw, and Bucky opens his eyes and looks up to Steve's face and oh, Steve's beautiful like this, his lips parted around moans and his pupils large with arousal and his muscles shaking with the effort to stay still while Bucky works his mouth over him.

Steve brushes his thumb against the spot where his cock makes Bucky's cheek bulk out and let's out a small sound that is equal parts arousal and amazement. Bucky smiles around the cock stretching his lips open and returns to his task with increased enthusiasm. He holds Steve's gaze the whole time.

He moves his right palm up to Steve's stomach and splays his fingers over the muscle there. It's tense and there is tremor under the skin. Easing the hold his left hand has on Steve's hip, he rubs circles in Steve's skin, hoping to signal with his touch what he can't say aloud at the moment. _You can let go, I've got you._

"Bucky…" This time it's a warning. His lower body twitches and when he finds out nothing is holding him back anymore, he thrusts into Bucky's mouth. It's shallow and cautious, and Bucky finds himself wishing Steve would just take his mouth as he's sure Steve craves to, he wishes he could be confident he can take that sort of thing . Maybe it's something they can work up to; this'd better not be a one time occurrence.

Bucky hums and wraps his lips tighter around the head of Steve's dick and sucks. He wants to see this through to the end, wants to taste Steve on his tongue. He holds himself still and allows Steve to guide the pace, but he flicks his tongue against the head and underside of Steve's cock. 

It takes a few more thrusts before Steve's fingers dig into Bucky's shoulder and his other hand twists into Bucky's hair and, as he groans Bucky's name once again, his orgasm spills into Bucky's mouth. Bucky tries to swallow it all as it fills his mouth but he still ends up with his chin messy with come.

Once he's sure Steve's finished, he lets him slide out of his mouth and uses his fingers to clean his own face, licking the digits clean. He pays little mind to how he must look until he hears Steve whimper far too needily for the fact that he's just come, and then he's being hauled to his feet. Steve crushes their lips together and works his tongue into Bucky's mouth and if he can taste himself in the kiss, he doesn't seem to mind. 

"Bedroom," he says hoarsely once they've broken apart, and Bucky's overlooked erection twitches with interest. 

It's not a long walk to the bedroom but it still takes them a while to get there as they're getting distracted by kissing and battling with clothes. Steve had abandoned all of his already and Bucky loses his shirt somewhere along the way and by the time they pass the threshold, his pants are open.

He walks backwards, too preoccupied with Steve's mouth, and when his legs hit the bed frame, Steve pushes him on the bed unceremoniously. Bucky doesn't mind one bit, except maybe that they're no longer kissing. But Steve's looking at him with hungry gaze and Bucky thinks that he must look glorious even as he is, debauched and panting and aroused, for someone to look at him that way. 

Then Steve gets down to his knees between Bucky's feet on the ground and just the thought of what's going to happen makes Bucky shudder in desire.

He assists Steve as best as he can with the disposal of the rest of his clothes, lifting his hips enough for the other man to pull off his jeans and underwear and free his aching erection. 

"So beautiful," Steve breathes and fuck, Bucky does feel beautiful under Steve's gaze. Large hands caress his thighs and Steve nuzzles his face into his crotch, his lips just barely brushing the base of Bucky's hard cock, and Bucky whines desperately. 

He curls his metal fingers into his sheets – he might rip them at some point soon but who cares? – and brings his other hand to the crown of Steve's head. "Don't make me wait."

"So impatient," Steve mutters, laughing quietly, and flicks his tongue against the base of Bucky's cock. The statement is very unfair in Bucky's opinion because hey, he's the one who's just made Steve come without any relief for himself, but he doesn't get a chance to voice his protest. Steve takes a hold of his cock and takes him in his mouth and oh fuck, it's the most wonderful sensation. 

Steve's mouth is warm and wet and his tongue glides along Bucky's length. Somewhere in the back of his mind Bucky registers some surprise at how easy Steve makes it seem, the way he takes Bucky into his mouth seemingly without any issue at all. Steve makes content humming noises and they reverberate through Bucky's body. He pulls away from Bucky's cock only to kiss the head sloppily, to tongue the slit, and then takes the whole cock between his lips again. He repeats that several times, making the dark-haired man shake with need.

Bucky closes his eyes and rolls his head into the mattress and revels in the sensation of Steve's mouth on him. Steve's taking his sweet time, but when Bucky attempts to guide the pace with his hand, he grabs his wrist and places his hand firmly onto the bed. Bucky grips the sheets and forces himself to hold still, though he's tempted to hook his leg behind Steve's back and urge him closer. 

What he can't control are the desperate sounds escaping his mouth. Between moans and whimpers, he repeats Steve's name and he might be cursing, too, but he has trouble keeping track of what he's saying. He is an incoherent mess by the time Steve finally picks up the pace. 

One of Steve's hand cradles Bucky's balls, making him release a new strings of heart-felt sounds, and the other… Bucky realizes he can't locate Steve's other hand and he forces his eyes open and lifts his head just enough to look. "Oh, fuck, Steve, are you—You—Fuck…" And he isn't coherent enough to finish voicing his observation, and he can't see over the edge of the bed, but he's pretty sure that the way Steve's upper arm is moving means one thing – Steve's got his hand around his own cock. And just the knowledge of that pushes Bucky that much closer to his release. 

" _Fuck_ , Steve," he moans and drops back to the mattress and this time, when he reaches for the back of Steve's head, Steve doesn't stop him. Instead, Steve's whole attention seems to turn to the tip of Bucky's cock and he sucks on it and works his tongue against it until Bucky sees stars behind his closed eyelids. 

He can feel the orgasm building up in his abdomen and it doesn't take much after that before he's coming onto Steve's tongue. He rides his orgasm with Steve's name on his lips, completely unashamed over how loud he is. The walls are soundproof and even if they weren't, he doesn't have it in him to care. 

Steve rests his forehead against Bucky's thigh and finishes himself with a few urgent strokes, coming with a quiet gasp.

They're still for a moment after that, breathing in unison. It doesn't last long, that quiet moment. As soon as he regains the control over his body, Bucky sits up and reaches for Steve. "Come here. Come here. C'mere," he urges, one hand clasping Steve and pulling him up, while he kicks off his own jeans and shoes. 

Steve doesn't protest but climbs into Bucky's bed without a moment of hesitation.

"That was something," Bucky says, brushing his lips against Steve's temple. The blonde man's skin shines with sweat. "Whoever says you're a good, uptight boy clearly never had you in their bed." 

Steve laughs quietly, ducks his head with blush, and isn't that adorable? But even as he does that, he is climbing over Bucky's body, bracing himself on his hands and knees above him. And Bucky feels almost sorry for all the people who never see Steve like this, lips red and swollen from sucking on a cock, and still so eager to continue. 

He's not the only one. Bucky brings his hand up to cup Steve's cheek and cranes his neck up for a lingering kiss, when he breaks away, he grins brightly and reaches out to squeeze Steve's ass. "We're not done yet, are we?" he asks as Steve groans. 

"Fuck, I hope not." 

Yep, if only the public could see Steve right now.

They kiss for a long while, hands roaming over each other's body now that they've calmed down enough to explore without the urgency. Bucky takes a mental note of every change in Steve's breathing, of every gasp, every positive reaction. Steve's ribs are ticklish, but his nipples are oh so sensitive. And Bucky's happy to let Steve know that biting his neck or along his collarbones turns him on like a switch.

Not long after, they're already grinding against each other again, exchanging sloppy kisses. The sensation of Steve's hard cock gliding against Bucky's own is new, but he is quite certain he'll never get tired of it. He can't get enough of Steve, can't get him close enough, wishes he could grasp and taste all of him at once. 

"Steve? Stevie?" he gasps into Steve's ear. "I want to fuck you." 

Steve moans in response, burying his face into the crook of Bucky's neck and grinding hard down into his hips. "Yes. _Bucky._ Yes, I want that." 

Despite not wanting to lose the contact, Bucky pushes at Steve's shoulder. "You need to let me—" 

He doesn't need to finish because Steve takes the hint and let's Bucky from under his own body. There's lube in the bottom drawer of Bucky's nightstand, the bottle already half-empty. But—

"I've no rubbers," he admits uneasily as he looks over his shoulder. Steve is laying on his front, one arm folded under his head, the muscle of his buttocks twitching slightly as he tries to not grind into mattress. With messy hair and skin glistening from sweat he looks like a sin – a beautiful one.

"Doesn't matter," Steve assures him, even as he blushes, and a wave of relief washes over Bucky. He crawls back to Steve and settles between his spread legs. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," he comments with his right hand caressing down Steve's back. His reward a goofy smile from the other man. When he takes his palm off Steve's body to uncap the bottle of slick, Steve makes a dissatisfied sound and wriggles his body impatiently. 

"Have you ever done this before?" he ask while he pours the lube over his fingers. He himself feels a little more at home in this than he did with the blowjob. 

"Only—Only to myself," Steve admits, and even the back of his neck turns red and he rolls his face into the crook of his elbow. 

Because he's momentarily stunned by the mental image, it takes Bucky a few seconds to reply. "Now that's something I'd like to see sometimes," he says, unashamed, as he spreads Steve's buttocks open with his left hand. When he circles the pretty pink hole with his right index finger, Steve gasps. "Too cold?" 

"N-no." Steve lifts his hips slightly. "Just—Get on with it." 

"So demanding." But Bucky can't hold back on Steve and he really, really wants to progress things further, too. He pushes the tip of his digit past the ring of muscle and listens to the whimper escaping Steve's lips. "Alright?" 

"I'm not a blushing virgin, Buck," Steve protests and he pushes his hips against Bucky's hand, trying to take him in further. Despite his words, what Bucky can see of his face is blushing alright and he is tight, so tight, and Bucky remembers that he's the first person doing this to him and that thought makes his own cock twitch in interest. He pushes forward and not meeting much resistance, starts exploring the walls of Steve's body. 

Steve's a gorgeous sight like this, so willing to take whatever Bucky gives him. So eager to be filled with Bucky's fingers, Bucky's cock. The realization of how badly Steve wants it, the desire signified by his needy whimpers, almost makes Bucky's head spin. It's making the idea of taking things slow almost unimaginable and Bucky decides to not hold back more than strictly necessary. After a while of playing with Steve's hole, he withdraws almost completely and then reinserts his finger along with a second one, spreading Steve open further. 

Steve groans loudly, his hands curling into fists, grasping at the sheets. He raises to his knees, his upper body still laid on the mattress, and Bucky moans at the sight. It hits him then all over again that this is Steve, Steve and him, and they're doing this together, and he has to bend down and place a kiss to the small of Steve's back. He rests his cheek against Steve's back while he starts moving his fingers inside Steve's body. He drags them in and out for a long moment, just letting the other man adjust to the intrusion. After a while he adds a third finger and continues in the same fashion. Only once Steve starts clenching his muscles around him in need of more stimulation does Bucky curl his fingers when he's sliding them back. After a few tries, he hits the right place and Steve jolts and moans as a shock of pleasure passes through his body. 

Steve gets incredibly vocal after that, though there are no words, just sounds of enjoyment and pleasure as Bucky keeps teasing his prostate. His cock is hard, leaking precome onto his stomach, and his whole body is shaking and shining with sweat. He is canting his hips, fucking himself on Bucky's fingers as Bucky fucks him with them and Bucky thinks about holding him still with his free hand, but then decides against it. There's something fascinating about seeing Steve so gone and he's enjoying the experience. 

Steve's fingers are clenching the sheets until his knuckles are white and his eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth never entirely closes around his moans.

"Fuck, you could come like this, couldn't you?" Bucky mutters, an edge of awe to his voice. 

There is only a whimper and a strained nod from Steve in response, no coherent words. 

And Bucky wants to fuck him, wants to come inside him so badly, but he can't bring himself to stop what he's doing. Because there's something about seeing Steve like this, so helplessly turned on and so close to his release just from Bucky's fingers teasing him, that's blowing Bucky's mind. And now that he's spotted that possibility, he wants to see it through to the end. 

Though he thinks Steve might be holding off his release, it doesn't take long. When Bucky rearangers his own position so that his erection rubs against Steve's thigh, offering him at least some relief, it's enough for Steve to give into the orgasm building within him. Bucky watches his face the whole time, with fascination and so, so in love. 

"Stevie…" He's surprised at the wonder that crawls into his voice. He kisses Steve's hip and clears his throat. His fingers are still filling Steve up, the muscle twitching around them, but he holds them still. "So that was… a third one." 

Steve laughs quietly. He sounds exhausted and his legs are shaking with effort, it takes a lot for him to hold himself up. "I'm good for a one or two more."

Thank fuck for the Serum, Bucky thinks, but aloud he groans in a pleased way. 

"You wanted to fuck me," Steve reminds him. Yeah, if people could just hear Captain America now. And see him push his already debauched body against Bucky's touch, clenching around his fingers. Hear him whimper in pleasure though he must feel so sensitive now.

"Are you sure about that?" Bucky asks even as his cock gets impossibly harder. He wants it, wants it so badly it's almost overwhelming, and he most definitely doesn't want to stop touching Steve, but there are other ways for him to get off if Steve can't take it right now. 

But Steve let's out an impatient whine. "Get on it." It doesn't sound quite like command, but it's certainly demanding. "Give it to me."

And who is Bucky to deny Steve anything. He withdraws his fingers and repositions himself between Steve's legs. Taking hold of Steve's hip with one hand, he guides his cock with the other. The idea of teasing some more briefly passes through his mind but he doesn't think either of them is up for that right now. He pushes in, slow and steady, tossing his head backward and closing his eyes as he revels in the feeling of Steve's body enveloping him. 

It's a tight fit and he surges forward slowly inch by inch, listening to Steve's shaky breaths.

"It feels good," Steve mutters and there's a hint of surprise in his voice, but he sounds so sincere. " _Oh_. Yeah, real good."

"Mhmm," is all Bucky can respond with. It feels heavenly and why had they never done this before? Steve's so hot and tight around him, and when he forces himself to open his eyes and look down, the sight of them together like this is almost enough to bring him over the edge. The way Steve's hole is stretched around him. "Fuck. Fuck, you're hot." 

Steve rolls his hips and Bucky curses again before grasping the other man's hips and pushing the rest of his cock in with one hard push. Steve shouts. Bucky holds still for a moment, but Steve urges him on. It's quite impossible to hold back after that and Bucky gives into his desires. With a firm grip on Steve's hips, he starts pounding into him, until sweat breaks out on his forehead and in the dip of his back and Steve's a mess of gasps and curses under him. His eyes wants to flutter closed but wants to keep looking. 

He keeps it up for a while, simply gets lost in the sensation, in the filthy sounds of their lovemaking, and in how he can't get any closer than he is now. Until it hits him that he _can_ and he forces himself still. When he withdraws, Steve reacts with a confused, dissatisfied sound, and oh fuck, he's hard again, isn't he? 

"Turn around," Bucky requests, tapping Steve's ass lightly with his right palm. Steve looks over his shoulder with his clouded eyes and it takes a moment for him to process what Bucky wants for him, but then acts without protests. He lies – drops – down and rolls onto his back, putting his perfect body on display. 

He raises his arms above his head and braces himself against the headboard while Bucky lifts the blond's legs and hooks them over his own shoulders. He realigns his cock with Steve's entrance again and takes a hold of his thighs before pushing in again. In this position he can see the pleasure on Steve's face, the way his lips curve around his moans. Steve's eyes are closed shut and Bucky wishes he could see the look in them when he's falling apart, but he doesn't want to ask, doesn't want the other man to have to focus on anything but the pleasure they're sharing. 

But he himself keeps his eyes open as starts thrusting again. It's difficult to decide where to keep his gaze, though: Steve's face, Steve's cock – begging for another orgasm, even if perhaps not as hard as it was before – or his own as it keeps disappearing in Steve's body. 

"Bucky." Steve whimpers name between his moans. He does it every few thrusts and it sounds more like a sob each time and it goes straight to Bucky's cock. 

Then Steve removes one hand from the headboard and reaches for his own erection and oh, fuck, that's where Bucky's gaze should be. 

They move together, Bucky thrusting with abandon now, and Steve's hips rolling against him and his hand stroking his own cock in almost perfect synchronization with Bucky's pounding. Their cries of pleasure mingle in the air. He's so close to release, and from the look of it, Steve isn't far behind. And Bucky wants this to last forever, wants to never stop, but he's also desperate for release and every thrust brings him closer to the edge.

He forces his eyes to stay open until he can't, until he's throwing his head back with a groan as he spills his release. Under him, Steve rides his own orgasm, unashamedly loud in his pleasure. In that moment, Bucky feels on top of the world. 

It takes some time afterwards for Bucky to catch his breath again, to steady himself enough to move again. His body is spent. Bucky turns his head and presses a soft kiss to Steve's knee before he slowly eases out of Steve's body and Steve whimpers a little, but there's a dazed smile playing across his lips. Bucky carefully places Steve's legs down onto the bed and crawls up to lie beside him.

Feeling boneless, he curls against the other man's – his best friend's, his lover's – side and with one hand curling behind Steve's neck, pulls him into a lingering kiss. 

Neither speaks for a long moment but there's no awkwardness in the silence. It's the most comfortable Bucky felt in a long time. He caresses Steve's body with his hand, his left hand he notices but Steve doesn't seem to mind, and he thinks about how now that they've done this, it'll be only that much more impossible to not touch Steve all the time.

He nuzzles his face into Steve's neck and breathes him in and Steve sighs happily. His eyes are closed and his breathing slow and steady, and Bucky wonders what it would take to get him going again.

"Insatiable," Steve mutters with a hint of amusement when Bucky's hand moves determinedly downwards.

Though he mentally counts the orgasms and how many more Steve's had, what Bucky says is: "Seventy years of you missing from my life. And at least ten more of wanting this. I'm not going to get you out of my system so easily."

Steve answers with a content sigh. "Please never get me out of your system."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is probably the most graphic thing I've ever written. ~~It was fun but maybe I should stick to the Teen rating.~~
> 
> This fic is also something else: I usually feel like I can't write unless I have an ideal setting, but this fic is a proof that that's a stupid excuse for not writing. I wrote a bulk of it sitting on the fluffy carpet in my bedroom (AKA, the ideal) but not all of it. The first 2000 words or so were originally written by hand in class. The blowjobs I wrote at a bus station waiting for my bus home. The last few paragraphs I typed on my tablet when I couldn't sleep and emailed them to myself to c/p into the story later. And some of the rest was written in my dorm room, covering my laptop screen and hoping that my roommate isn't a mindreader. So yeah, next time I'm complaining I don't have the ideal setting for my creative work, I'll remember this story. 
> 
> My [Tumblr](http://midnighttypewriter.tumblr.com/).


End file.
